


Say The Words

by OctoberSkies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Dorian, Edging, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shameless Smut, Tumblr Prompt, pavellan - Freeform, top!lavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctoberSkies/pseuds/OctoberSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Tumblr smut prompt - orgasm denial/edging (Dorian Pavus/Varlen Lavellan)</p><p>In which Varlen and Dorian make a sexy bet, and both are determined not to lose!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say The Words

The sounds that poured from Dorian’s lips were like music played through honey, dripping with a heady mixture of lust and frustration. Varlen was honestly surprised that the man had lasted as long as he had, although not without a healthy amount of twisting, writhing, and general teeth-gritting impatience at his predicament. _But_ , Varlen reasoned as he once again took the head of Dorian’s cock into his mouth, _he_ was _the one who agreed to the game._

With a swift flick of his tongue along the weeping tip, Varlen relaxed his throat and encased Dorian’s length, ignoring the trembling whimper he earned from the mage as his toes curled against the bedsheets. They’d been at it for a while now – close to half an hour of near-constant teasing - and Varlen was _good_ at what he did. Dorian was glistening with sweat, every inch of his body a fluttering mess whenever Varlen deigned to provide his aching erection with some much-needed friction. However, it was never enough, and _that_ was entirely on purpose.

After completing only a few of long, lavishing drags, Varlen once again pulled away, chuckling huskily as Dorian groaned and bucked upwards, breathing as though he had run a marathon in the Approach. Varlen would bet all his gold that Dorian wished his arms were not pinned behind his back, fastened by one of the many belts he seemed to always have on his person at any given time. He was actually starting to wonder if Dorian wore so many purely in case of situations like this. If that was true… well, Varlen would have to give him points for preparedness.

Varlen sat back a touch, letting his eyes drift over his lover’s form. Over every muscle, firm beneath his deep skin, quivering with each second that passed – although the seconds probably felt like hours now to poor Dorian. But he knew how to end the game. He just had to say a few magic words. Sure, it meant he _lost_ , but really, was it worth all of this?

“You’re pretty stubborn, I’ll give you that.” Varlen murmured, tipping forward, an arm on either side of the mage, and lowering down to take one of his nipples into his mouth. He swirled over the hard nub, chuckling at the hiss Dorian produced, before taking it gently between his teeth. Just enough to surprise. Not enough to hurt. True to form, Dorian let out a sharp wince, flinching back in pure reflex, and Varlen let him. The elven man shifted tact, running his hands down Dorian’s sides, fully aware of how ticklish he can be, especially given his current state of heightened arousal. It was like every sensation was multiplied. Varlen knew because Dorian had done it to him a number of times before. A strained laugh snagged in Dorian’s throat, and he shuddered away, turning his head to the side as though to bury it in the bunched sheets.

“Kaffas! S-Stop…!” He gasped, eyes watering, and Varlen obliged, smirking at the way his skin shivered beneath his touch. He stilled his fluttering fingers and moved lower again, ghosting them down Dorian’s lower body and across his pelvis.

“… Well?” Varlen prompted, his voice a deep purr as he took his index finger and ran it lightly along Dorian’s shaft, all the way from the base to the tip. He put pressure on the head, rolling against its slick surface with his fingertip, and Dorian practically melted into the sensation, arms tensing as though he was trying to break the belt in sheer desperation. The sound of the leather straining was almost erotic in its own way, and Varlen continued to tease, knowing it was not quite enough to finish Dorian, but perfect to make him writhe.

“ _A-Amatus_ —!” Through clenched teeth, Dorian tossed his head to the other side, his hair utterly dishevelled and sticking to his forehead in places, damp with sweat. He made a noise, somewhere between a growl and a sob, arching his back, trying to angle his hips and find purchase. But Varlen simply moved with him, completely pliable, and _endlessly frustrating_ , a grin spreading over his face as Dorian cursed loudly in Tevene. He thrashed, torso stuttering, and Varlen pulled an unassuming face.

“You know… you just need to say the words…”

“N-Never— _AGH_!” Dorian snarled, but the muscles of his neck tightened suddenly and he curled upwards with a yelp. As Dorian had delivered his stubborn reply, Varlen had grabbed the base of his cock in one hand and roughly palmed the head with the other, rolling over the swollen skin. Dorian convulsed, his heart skipping in his chest as though racing his breaths in a fight to escape his body. Varlen knew it was almost over, and he tightened his grip on the base of the mage’s shaft, feeling victory swiftly approaching as he took the tip back into his mouth and sucked hard. Dorian’s hips jumped, his feet scrabbling against the sheets as a silent sob shook his frame.

“M-Maker! Varlen—p-please! Please I c-can’t—AH!” It was incredible to see Dorian, so collected and so _poised_ , reduced to a whimpering, begging mess. Bound and quaking for release, but denied for so long that his eyes were beginning to lose focus, and his indignation had been completely replaced by sheer desperation. As much as Varlen wanted to give Dorian what he so clearly needed, he held off, replacing his swirling tongue with his palm again and making his final demand.

“Say. The. Words.” He closed his palm over Dorian’s tip and rotated it sharply, earning a strangled cry from the man who was possibly coming dangerously close to hurting himself from struggling against his restraints. Varlen hoped he’d give in now, or else he’d have no choice but to throw the game for Dorian’s sake, in case he injured himself.

“F-F-Fine!” Dorian finally choked, teeth bared, eyes squeezed shut so that he did not see the blaze of triumph and relief in Varlen’s eyes. “I-I... Will wear y-your… _p-plaidweave_ _suit_ to th… the W-Winter Palace!”

With a cry of victory, Varlen loosened his grip at the base of Dorian’s aching shaft, pumping as his other hand continued to work the swollen head. A violent pleasure suddenly tore through the mage in time with Varlen’s stroking hand, and he came near instantly, spilling thick ropes onto his stomach, jerking in silent, blissful agony as he was _finally_ permitted to climax. Varlen continued until Dorian was completely spent, slowing to a stop as the man’s high-pitched gasps lowered to a rumbling groan. Swiftly, Varlen shifted, using his arms to ease a completely dazed Dorian up briefly so he could undo the belt that held his wrists. It fell away with a soft clink, and Varlen tossed it aside, rubbing the reddened skin to help promote circulation again. Smiling softly at the mage, who was still lost somewhere in that cloud of ecstasy, Varlen planted a kiss on the back of Dorian’s cool hand.

Dorian was a stubborn bastard, certainly. But tonight… well, _tonight_ was Varlen’s.

Dorian was going to look _great_ in plaidweave.


End file.
